Life Of A Popstar, A Justin Bieber Love Story
by Emisnotcool
Summary: Rubii is just a normal teenager, untill she ends up in a relationship with Justin Bieber. Will love bring them together, or will fame tear them apart?
1. Chapter 1

As the last few notes of "Baby" echoed through the crowd, I could feel the numbness of my ears really start to take effect. But before I could determine whether or not I still had hearing a high pitched scream pierced through me. Now, I thought, I really must've lost my hearing. All of a sudden, a hand clamped on my arm so tight I was losing feeling.

"OH MY GOD, RUBI!" screamed Charlotte, jumping up and down and pulling my arm with her. My ears were still ringing from her previous screech. "HE'S SO CUTE! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH! JUSTIN BIEBER I LOVE YOU!"

I rolled my eyes, but she was too intent on watching him cross the stage to notice. I knew that she was hoping, with all her heart, that JB would pick her out of the crowd and sing his final song to her. But, unfortunately, I knew that she had about a one in a million chance to be picked out of all the screaming obsessed fans at the concert. As I looked at her gazing up at the 17 year old heart-throb, with so much hope in her eyes, I felt my own eyes fill with pity and sorrow. I sighed and turned my head back to the boy on the stage, catching him mid-sentence.

"-love all my fans, especially those who are here tonight, but for this last song, I'm gonna have one special girl come on stage with me. How about..." his eyes raked the audience, and lingered on me and Char. My heart started to race, but my hope fell when his gaze continued on and landed on a very attractive blonde girl a few feet away from us wearing a tight low cut tank top of his favorite color. "Let's have this girl right here; the one in the purple tank top."

Over a chorus of high pitched screams from and around the chosen girl, I could practically hear the disappointment of my friend. I turned towards her with sympathy in my eyes. She was gazing at the purple-clad girl as she climbed onto stage with a mixture of envy, and hate.

"Char..." My voice was barely audible over the constant buzz of the screaming fans, but somehow, Charlotte managed to hear me and turned to face me. She had a world of hurt in her eyes. She was obviously hoping for some words of comfort from me

"Look on the bright side!" I started happily. When she raised her right eyebrow, dubious, I elaborated. "She'll probably never get to see him like this ever again. And we" -I picked up the laminated pass hanging from my neck and tapped her on the head with it, "have backstage passes. It'd be way better to meet him while he's NOT in front of thousands of screaming fans!"

The corners of her mouth turned slightly upward but she still seemed very dismal. We turned back to the stage just in time to catch the end of the first verse of "One Less Lonely Girl".

As the last screaming lyrics erupted from the mouths of the thousands of fans, I noticed the song didn't have the same effect on Char that it normally did. She was probably still just upset that she wasn't chosen.

"He doesn't realize that he just make more lonely girls in this world" she muttered under her breath before turning to me, their usual fire returning, ablaze in her eyes, "Now, let's go meet Justin Bieber!"

Now I know what you're thinking, why would I go to a JB concert if I don't love him? Well, the answer is simple. No, I don't love him but, yes, I do like him. I, for one, think it's stupid to say your "in love" with someone you've never even met. I mean, it's alright to have a celebrity crush, but a crush and love, are two completely different things. You wouldn't go up to some kid in a class of yours and say you loved them. Celebrities are people, too, and that would be very awkward for them. JB wasn't always famous so, he knows what it's like to be normal, and I bet that he, sometimes, wishes he could go back to the way things were.

As Char dragged me through the crowd, shoving the random people out of our way, I noticed how the light reflected off her blonde hair and shone beautifully. I immediately was glad that she decided against dyeing her hair. Unlike me and most of our friends, Charlotte had the stereotypical "popular girl" hair. It was down to her waste and fell in waves. It was beautiful but she (and most of us, for that matter) thought it gave her the look of "conformity". Not to mention her beautiful blue eyes, high cheekbones and flawless skin. She was that kind of girl who all the cookie cutter girls wanted to be. Thank god she hadn't fallen into their trap of Juicy Couture sweat suits, Ugg shoes, and Marc Jacobs handbags. But still, she was that amazing girl who just happened to be born perfect. I twirled a few strands of hair around my finger and glanced at the tip of my hair, wincing as I noticed too many split ends to count. Well, that's the price of beauty, I thought, pushing up my high teased hair. My hair looked better black than hers would anywaya.

I broke my hand away from Char's and crossed my arms, my normal "safety habit" as we call it. Maybe I wouldn't feel so odd if Char had on clothes more like mine and less like the many girls swarming the backstage exit, hoping to catch a glimpse of the great JB. No, I'm not self-conscious; I just feel safer and much more at home if I'm with my friends, than people who just think I'm worth less than the stuff stuck to their shoes. I don't have a problem ignoring them, id just rather be more comfortable.

Just by looking at us, right now you could never tell that we were here together. Actually, you could barley even tell Char from all the other fans, with her purple JB shirt and her shorts. When I say shorts, I mean SHORTS. Like those short-ass shorts that look like they could get a person in trouble for being too short. Yep, she fit in just fine. I, on the other hand, stuck out like a sore thumb. And that's just how I like it. I had on a neon pink hello kitty tank top and a black tutu over blue leggings, leading right down to a pair of black ballet flats. In addition to the steezy clothes, I had a flat diamond necklace, three sterling silver earrings on each ear, one on my nose, and a single spider bite ring on the right side of my lip. I had, also, thrown a myriad of bracelets on my arms, and a small pink clip-on bow with a skull on it into my hair.

Once we reached the entrance to the backstage area, we flashed out VIP passes at the security guard and he let us through. Backstage wasn't anything special. Just a lot of expensive looking equipment and many people running around with clipboards and headsets.

"OHMIGOD! THERE HE IS" screeched Char, as she took off to our right.

I jogged behind her, trying to keep up. Her excitement gave her more energy than I could muster, so by the time I got to them, Char was already gushing over how amazing he was. When he noticed me, Justin turned to me with a smile on his face.

"Hi! I'm Justin" he said, extending his hand. When I started to roll my eyes, he scratched the back of his neck nervously and added, "Well, you probably already knew that. So, thanks for coming to the show!"

"Yeah, well, you're so amazing, we just had to see you" Char cut in. I hadn't even realized that Justin had lost focus on Charlotte when I came over, but, obviously, Char had. "Could I get your autograph!"

"Umm, sure" Justin replied, dazed. It was almost as though he had forgotten she was there. "But, I don't have a pen, could you run to my dressing room down the hall and grab it for me? Thanks."

Charlotte had taken off down the hall even before Justin had finished his sentence. I watched her leave, and when I turned back Justin was staring at me. Once he was caught, he dropped his gaze and fiddled with his hands.

"Soooo... She seems like a handful" Justin broke the silence nervously.

"You have no idea" I mumbled under my breath. I jerked my head up when I heard Justin suddenly laugh.

"Well, you seem pretty normal. I think that's cool. That you don't hang all over me, I mean. Most girls who come to concerts aren't like you" he said while giving me a quick once-over. I shifted my weight uncomfortably, until I realized that he wasn't hitting on me; he was admiring me.

After that, there was a silence. Not an uncomfortable silence. I glanced up at him, only to see that he was looking back at me. I was suddenly very glad that I hadn't reminded char about the sharpie in my back pocket. When we made eye contact, a crooked smile crept across his lips. Suddenly my gaze shifted from his eyes to his lips. Then, on a sudden impulse, I lifted my head higher and touched my lips lightly to his. I could feel his shock, but he made no attempt to pull away. I took that as a sign to go on and I pressed my lips firmly onto his. This time, instead of just feeling shocked; he kissed me back, sweet and hard. I lifted my hands up, wrapping them around his neck, and tangling them in his hair. I felt his strong arms around my waist, as we both pulled each other deeper into the kiss. I snaked my tongue out and he did the same, all the while he was sucking on my lip ring, making the kiss all the more passionate.

Suddenly, he pulled away, looking stunned. I was surprised and sad at the sudden loss of him. A thought hit me, and I pulled out the sharpie, grabber his hand, and wrote my number on the back of it. I looked back up at him, expecting either anger and disgust, or his gentle eyes and cocky grin. I was met with neither. He looked absolutely stunned. And not just stunned, but, almost, terrified. Then he shook his head, apparently at a loss for words. He looked back and forth apparently scanning the area for any bystanders. Once he assured that no one was around he turned back, sadness in his face.

"I'm sorry" he whispered, then turn and ran down the hall; leaving me feeling more alone than ever.


	2. Chapter 2

I lay on the towel spread out on the sandy beach staring at my phone for the hundredth time since the concert. I sighed and put my phone down as the drum solo in the beginning of Fall Out Boy's "I Don't Care" kicked in. The night of the concert still confused me. Sometimes I would think back over that night and wonder if I had made up the whole thing. But there was still no denying the text saved on my phone. I had received it in the car on the way back from the concert. I was confused when I saw it was from a number I had never heard of. But, when I saw the area code, I had sat there, stunned. 226. Aka, the zip code from Southwest Ontario. My fingers were shaking as a pressed the "View now" button on my phone. The text was only two words. The same words that he had whispered to me before running off. "I'm Sorry". I had immediately texted him back, telling him that he needn't apologize, and asking him what exactly happened. He never texted me back, and here I was, one solid week later, still stressing over what had happened.

I was mentally hitting myself when I felt something actually hit me on the back. I rolled over to see the source of it was a football from a bad throw or and bad attempt of catching it. As I grabbed it and sat up, a boy ran over to me. He was about my age. Well, maybe a little older than 16. He had brown hair, and brown eyes. He was wearing a wide-brim red Yankees hat, and plain black swim trunks. I could see the top of the waistband of his underwear right above the edge of his trunks. I pulled my ear buds out of my ears.

"Hey, sorry about that. My friend is a dick and CANT THROW FOR HIS LIFE!" he yelled the last part, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk on his face.

"No problem." I replied, a thought springing into my head; one with a win-win result.

I stood up and shoved the football into his hands. Then, I leant in and pressed my lips firmly against his. He jerked a bit in surprise but then gladly gave in and slid his tongue out, playing with my lip ring. I, too, snaked my tongue out and preceded to suck on his upper lip. From behind us I heard a wolf whistle and an "Awww yeah, man", and we broke apart. I looked up and saw a smirk on his face.

"Why don't you give me your number, and we'll continue this another time?" he suggested, winking and grabbing his phone from his pocket to shove into my hand.

I bent down and grabbed mine from the towel in the sand. I handed it to him and inputted my number in his. He did the same and we re-exchanged phones.

"Cool, thanks. See ya around." he said, shoving his phone back in his pocket. He turned and started to head back to his friends. When he was halfway there, he turned around, walking backwards and called out, "I'm Jeydon, b the w."

"Rubii!" I called back.

I gave him a quick wave, which he returned before turning back to his friends who greeted him with punches on the shoulder and clasps on the back. I laid back down on the blanket and shoved my ear buds back into my ears, listening to the second chorus of the song kick in. I glanced down at my phone, thinking over my previous idea. I touched my fingers to my lips. The kiss with Justin had been amazing. It had blown me away and there had been a spark. The biggest spark I've ever felt with anyone. With Jeydon, it had been hot. So hot, but there was no spark. That didn't mean I couldn't just date him to get my mind off of Justin. Well, I had been right; it was a win-win situation. Either A) there was a huge spark with Jeydon, meaning the kiss with Justin was nothing. Or, B) there's no spark, and I get to kiss a hot guy. But, hey; either way I may have a shot at a sexy bf. I grabbed my sunglasses from my bag and put them on, smiling; thinking about what was to come.


	3. Chapter 3

"Where is he!" Whined Charlotte, stamping her foot and leaning her head against Max's shoulder as he threw his arm around her. "Oh, and f y information, if he bails, we're not paying for you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. He'll show. His high school just gets out later than ours." I responded sipping on my strawberry smoothie (and I don't care if it sounds all fruity and girly; they taste good).

I glanced over at Max and Char, smiling at how different they were from each other, yet how perfect. He had short black hair with bangs that swept over his left eye. His eyes were deep brown that they almost looked black, which rivaled Char's bright blue eyes. Along with the three piercings on his right ear, he had two spider bites, a tongue piercing and an eyebrow ring. He was fairly tall, about 6' 2", and a right wing player for the town's hockey team. He was strong and very fit, and had a six pack. I knew this for a fact cause he, along with most of our other guy friendslike the douche he is, refused to wear a shirt while not in public. For now, he was wearing a black Blood On The Dance Floor band tee, which contrasted with Char's bright neon-colored Bring Me The Horizon tee. We were all really into band clothing at the time.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Jeydon taking a seat beside me.

"Hey, babe." He greeted me while leaning down and kissing me on the forehead.

A few days after meeting him at the beach, he had called and asked me out and we had been dating for a few weeks. Turns out, he lives in Windsor, a town just a few miles north of where we live, Santa Rosa, CA. Also, it turns out, he's not a sophomore like me, Char and Max (even thought he should be a junior, cause he was held back a year). He's a Senior. 17. I was only 16 but, age doesn't really matter.

"Didn't think you would show. Oh, and we ordered you a cappuccino." Char tapped the coffee cup in front of our seat.

"Thanks." He replied, sipping his coffee, smirking; "And why, exactly, wouldn't I show?"

"Well maybe you finally wised up and dumped our girl over here- OUCH!" I slapped Max, annoyed but not at all surprised by his insulting attitude. He was the one in the group who acted like a big brother; incredibly annoying and irritating but you gotta love him.

I rolled eyes and then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, I hear Darren Criss break out into "Bills Bills Bills". At first I was startled but then I remembered I had set it as the ringtone for my cellular. I apologized as I glanced at the number on the screen. Freezing and stiffly excusing myself, I ran to the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop. I answered and walked down the sidewalk to the left as, then turned and walked back. I had a habit of pacing while talking.

"Hello?" I answered, half expecting this to be an unfortunate pocket-dial or even a prank call.

"Hey" the voice answered on the other end, making my heart stop.

I held my breath; expecting the worst, once again.

"We.." he started very hesitantly. He took a drew in a big gulp of air and then let it out, breathing his words out in a rush. Almost as though he didn't want to lose his nerve. "We need to meet. Tomorrow. 11 AM, at 'Moxie Java'."

My heart literally skipped a beat. It was racing so hard I thought I might pass out.

"Okay." I replied, my voice shaking, before my brain registered that I actually had his ear for now. "WAIT! I-"

"I'll explain everything tomorrow." he replied, his voice soft. "I'm sorry."

"Wait!" I yelled into the receiver end of my cellular.

Then, I heard a clicked and checked the screen. Yepp, he had hung up. I stamped my foot in frustration, and stopped back to our usual table outside of the local Starbucks. As soon as I sat down, I noticed everyone was looking at me. Then it occurred to me that they had heard my anger and yelling, and they had seen my frustration.

"What was that all about?" asked Charlotte with a questioning gaze.

"Well... If you must know..." I bit my lip, took a deep breath, and straight out lied, "I have to go into Rohnert Park and pick up some things for my mom tomorrow. Parents. Whatcha gonna do?"

I shrugged to make my testimony realistic. From the look of understanding on everyone's face, they bought it. This was perfect. I had a cover up to my embarrassing cellular performance, and I wouldn't have to make excuses for not being around tomorrow. I mentally high fived myself.

"So, did you hear?" Max started "Max Green is gonna be touring with the band!"

"Awesome! He's over his addiction?" Char exclaimed. "Wait! Isn't Escape The Fate playing in Sacramento in October? We should all-"

I started to zone out and didn't participate in their discussion about plans to see fall shows. So preoccupied that I didn't even join in when hopes that Fall Out Boy would get back together and make music like they used to surfaced. My mind was too preoccupied. With thoughts of the previous conversation. With thoughts of tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

As I gazed through the groups of unfamiliar faces sitting at tables at the coffee shop, I saw a hand shoot up. It was in the back right hand corner of the group of tables. The hand belonged to a boy with silver supra skytops, baggy dark blue jeans, black wayfarer sunglasses and a purple hoodie pulled up over his black Yankees hat. I knew the hand was meant to signal me cause the boy was turned towards me and he started waving in my direction. I headed over there, my heart beating out of my chest. When I got there the boy stood up. The same boy who I had talked to on my cellular the day before. Justin Bieber.

"Hey." he smiled sheepishly.

All of a sudden, I felt anger and pain bubble up inside me. I clenched my teeth and balled my fist up trying to hold in my anger. It didn't work. All of a sudden, my rage and pain burst from inside me and my hand was stinging. I heard a clatter as his sunglasses fell to the ground. I looked down at him. He was bent over, tenderly touching his left cheek where a red mark was starting to appear. I felt tears well up my eyes.

"Hey? HEY!" I screamed at him, as heads started turning towards us. I felt wet angry tears well up in my eyes, "YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! YOU COMPLETELY IGNORE ME FOR A MONTH AND ALL YOU CAN SAY IS 'HEY'?"

By now, he was standing up, looking bewildered and just about as hurt as I felt. I looked at him. Him standing there, looking at me with pain in his eyes. So much pain. If he didn't care about me, how had I hurt him?

"I'm sorry." his voice was barely audible over my rage. "You're right. I am an asshole. I can explain everything though. It's not an excuse, you just deserve and explanation."

"Well," I sat down at the chair opposite his, blinking my tears away and still gritting my teeth in anger. He looked down at me, and I looked up at him, with an annoyed and impatient face. "I'm waiting."

He sighed, picking up his sunglasses and throwing them on as he sat back down. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then shut it and stared at the ground. I sighed and decided that it would be best for me to start the ball rolling.

"Why were you sorry?" I asked and when he didn't answer, I elaborated "On the night of the concert, after we kissed, you kept apologizing, and then later, you texted me that you were sorry."

He didnt respond, suddenly becoming very interested in his hands. Becoming very annoyed at his silence, I stood up and explained that I needed some caffeene. I went inside, ordered a cappuccino and walked back outside. When I returned to my seat, I looked up to find that Justin was looking right at me, sunglasses once again not clouding his eyesight.

"The reason I apologized and the reason I didn't call or text you is the same." He started, and when I gave him a 'go on' look, he continued "It's cause I'm famous. If you were dating me your life would be ruined. Paparazzi. Fan Girls. Hate Mail. Everything. And not to mention if we ever broke up. If that happened, everything would go to hell. I know because the same thing happened to my cousin who dated a Canadian celebrity. It ruined her life. I didn't want that to happen to anyone else. I didn't tell you before cause I was scared you would try to change my mind."

We were silent for a minute or two. I let the words really sink in.

"Why?" I asked. My voice was barely more than a whisper. "Why meet me now?"

Again, there was silence.

"Because..." he finally said. "Because, well, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

He looked up at me sheepishly and my anger fell away. His smile was so cute and his eyes so sincere I couldn't help but want to reach out and hug him right then and there. Then my brain finally processed what he had just said. Wait. So, he WASN'T here to tell me to leave him alone. A thought crossed my mind, but I immediately scrapped it and mentally kicked myself. I couldn't think like that. The higher up you build yourself, the harder you will fall. I looked at him expectantly, hoping he would soon explain why he had asked to meet me here.

"Look, I want to be with you, but I can't do that to you." I sighed at his words.

"I can give you one reason that will change your mind." I told him, with a sly confident smile.

"What do you mean?" Confusion crossed his face, but before I could elaborate, he started rambling. "Look, I want to and I'm guessing you want to, but It can't happen and besides it wouldn't work cause I'm always on tour and you would have people bugging you all the time and not to mention the paparazzi even though I think I told you about that before but anyway, we couldn't do it is secret cause we would have no time for each over and also since you-"

I cut him off by leaning over the table and pressing my lips softly to his. He didn't pull back and relaxed into the kiss. It was gentle, unlike last time. It was sweet and soft and felt nice. Our lips seemed to fit together so perfectly; like they were mad for each other. I pulled back and looked at him, the taste of his lips radiating over my mouth. He licked his lips.

"Well, I guess that was your one reason," he chuckled.

"Look," I started, "I don't care about the whole fame thing! I just wanna be with you. We can keep it a secret. I don't care about all that other crap."

He sighed. I hoped he was finally caving to my pleading. He looked at me, and I couldn't read him. It was true, though. I didn't care. Not about how we would have to keep it under wraps. Not about the fact that we wouldn't be able to see each other much. Not about how much this could fuck up my life. Not about even Jeydon.

"Fine." he said, sounding defeated, but I could hear joy masked in the back of his voice. "We'll try it. But you can't tell anyone. Not a soul."

I almost jumped for joy. I agreed and he said he had to get back because of his vocal training. Right before he left, he gave me a goodbye kiss on the cheek and ran off down the street. I touched where he had kissed me, just waiting to wake up. The best part was; I never did.


	5. Chapter 5

A drink was thrust into my hands and I looked down at it. I assumed that none of my friends wanted to rape me so I didn't think there would be anything extra added to it. I shrugged and took a swig of the drink and almost gagged at it. I started coughing and the cup was yanked out of my hands. I felt someone pounding on my back as I coughed.

"What WAS that?" I managed to choke out.

Jeydon removed his hand from my back once I managed to catch my breath. I looked up to see Char laughing and Max with the usual smirk of his face. I had been expecting a mixture of beer or something. But that drink defiantly had vodka in it. I'm not a wimp, I just wasn't expecting it.

"Smirnoff and Red Bull" Max answered, still quite amused.

"What?" mocked Char, "Too strong for ya?"

I snickered at her and grabbed the cup from Jeydon's hands. The liquid came up about half of the way in the red plastic cup. I brought it up to my lips and downed it in one gulp. I squashed the cup at threw it at Char's head. Jeydon looked at me like I had just lit my head on fire, and Char looked pretty amazed at what I had just done. Only Max seemed impressed.

"What up, Quinne!" Max exclaimed, using my last name, which he only did when he was impressed. Or mocking me.

Even though I had been expecting it this time, it still hit me like an electric shock. The back of my throat burned and once the mixture made its way to my stomach, it suddenly hit me that maybe, an energy drink and vodka wasn't the BEST idea. I put one hand to my head and the other on Jeydon's shoulder to steady myself.

"Ugg! Someone just get me a beer!" I groaned

Jeydon chuckled as he pushed me down onto the couch behind us. Char said she'd get me some water. Max was the only sensible one, handing me a bottle of Heineken beer which i gladly took a swig of. Having a 'normal' alcoholic drink in my stomach made it feel less queasy. I swung my legs over the arm of the couch and laid down on the cushions.

"Well she won the contest for being the first one drunk." Jeydon continued chuckling.

"I'm not drunk!" I argued. I felt my head begin to spin and then added, "Not yet, anyway."

"Give it two minutes." Max called from the corner of the room where he was fiddling with a stereo as I took a large gulp from the beer bottle.

The radio turned on and I heard Char squeal in delight. Jeydon groaned and Max was grimacing as he tried to get the iPod hooked up. Once my almost-drunk brain recognized the song, my stomach lurched, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol I'd already consumed. The song was Baby. By Justin Bieber. I downed a large chunk of beer with a grown on my face. I felt so happy to hear his wonderful voice, but when I looked up at Jeydon, I was filled with guilt. Even though Justin and I had decided to see each other, I still hadn't broken up with Jeydon. It was stupid, I know, but I just couldn't do it. Sure, there was a connection with Justin that had never sparked with Jeydon, but that didn't mean I didn't CARE about him. The thing was, I didn't want to break up with Jeydon. But, I didn't want to tell Justin that I couldn't see him, either. Also, if I broke up with Jeydon and then broke up with Justin, Jeydon wouldn't take me back. He would assume he was just the rebound guy. Which, in a sense, he was. I put my hand on my head and groaned. Too much thinking for my, now fully, drunk brain as i looked down at my already nearly empty beer bottle. I was scared nearly senseless as the pop-sounding song of Justin's was replaced with the post-hardcore sound of the Black Veil Brides.

"YES! GOT IT!" Max exclaimed, obviously overjoyed that Bieber's voice was replaced with Andy Six's.

Char voiced her complaint, but when she walked over to the stereo, Max pushed her into the armchair behind them. He cranked the volume up and fell down on the couch cushion next to mine. He checked his watch and sighed. I was about to question him about his action when I heard the doorbell ring. I looked, questioningly up at him, and he looked away, sheepishly.

"I, uh, kinda invited some other people. They asked if they could bring guests and now," he looked back, this time smiling his usual cocky smile (we call it the Max smile), "It's kinda a party. All of our friends said they were coming. I dunno who else, but most of them are bringing others."

He took a swig of the Guinness bottle in his hand and stood up. I shook my head at him. It may be his house, but he really should think before making plans. Or, as is always the case with him, throwing parties. He's not the kind of person who loves getting drunk; he's just a party animal. Which is weird considering how much he hates crowds. He's almost as much of a party animal as-

"That's probably Aaron." Max guessed, crossing the room.

"He probably just wants a head start at getting drunk." Char replied. Max and I laughed, nodding our heads in agreement.

"Well," I added "It's not a party without him!"

Aaron. My Ex-Boyfriend. Now, the thing about breakups is that most people say they will 'still be friends'. 99% of the time, that doesn't work out. Me and Aaron are that 1%. Yes. We're friends. We were before we dated, and we still are. It was hard to believe that he ever hung out with us, let alone date me, and continue to stay friends with us after I dumped him. I mean, he was tall, like 6' 3", ripped, hot, and not to mention the QB for the schools football team. If he wanted to, he could be the most popular kid in school; 'king of the Jocks'. But, no. He continued to hang out with our 'creepy loser emo friends', as we are called by most of the 'cool' kids. Out of all of us, he was the craziest party-animal. He was seriously always drunk!

"Speak of the devil" I heard Max exclaim from the entryway.

"WOOOO! LET"S GET THIS PARTY STARTED!" contrary to our beliefs, Aaron was drunk even BEFORE he got there.

Throughout the night, more people wandered in and we ended up with about 50 people crowded into Max's average-sized house. I was thankful that I had actually worn something decent tonight, instead of just sweats and a hoodie, like I always wear when hanging out at night. All clothing looks the same when you're drunk. I had been wearing red skinnies, and a white fitted tee with a cute cartoon-y black dinosaur printed on it. Along with that, I had a bunch of bracelets up my right arm and a few on my left, along with a bunch of various silver necklaces hanging over the dino. Thank god I hadn't just thrown on my jb shirt and my juicy couture sweatpants. I would've been labeled a poser for life.

The party was pretty lively, with Max and Aaron hyping it up multitues above the normal parties of ours. We even played spin the bottle once everyone was pretty wasted. The guys agreed to same-sex making out cause they all did the math and determined that it was worth kissing another dude just to see to 'hot chicks' making out. Even though I was at my usual 'stop drinking or your gonna get a stellar hangover' point before even Aaron got there, I continued to drink. The night was pretty much a haze. Max had said that anyone was welcome to stay if they were too drunk to drive, and that he is not liable if you get in a car with, or are someone who is drunk. He, also, said that bedrooms were open, too. At that point, I was pretty wasted so when Jeydon looked over at me, I nodded and we headed upstairs.

I'm only 16, and I'm not a slut so, no. I haven't had sex before. That doesn't mean I can't sleep with Jeydon. And when I say 'sleep with' I mean, your both sleeping in the same bed. I just feel safe with him. Now Jeydon, he's a senior. I haven't questioned him about it. I don't need to know. We have been to lots of crazy Max-Aaron parties, and we normally get too drunk or tired to drive, so we normally just spend the night in the guest room. Tonight, we had the same plan.

"UGGHH!" I groaned, falling onto the bed. "I'm shoooooo wayshted!"

Jeydon chuckled and shut the door, locking it so no one would wake us up. I looked up at him and he was wearing that cocky Max-smile that didn't belong to him. It looked cute on him though.

On a whim, I decided to get up and kiss him. He kissed me back. Hard. It was sloppy kiss due to our drunkeness. I threw my arms around his back to steady myself and he put his hands on my waist. It continued and developed into sort of making out, and then to full-frontal snogging. I was sucking on his top lip, groping it like a fish. He was doing the same right back. As we continued, he turned me and pushed me up against the wall. With hands still at my hips, he broke away, and nuzzled his face into my neck. I breathed out a moan as his experienced mouth knew just what to do. Biting and abusing the skin on my neck as to be sure to leave a mark. Eventualy, his lips traveled back up to mine and the snogging continued. I removed my hands from around his neck and brought them to the hem of his shirt. I snaked my fingers underneath and travelled them up, feeling his strong sculpted abs. I felt him playing with the hem of MY shirt and, remembering that I had a tank top on underneath, I let him slide my top off, as I discarded his. I felt him tug me in the direction of the bed, and, once his hand touched the bare skin just below my tank top, I came to my senses.

I pushed him away as fast and abruptly as I could, trying to catch my breath. I stared at him, unable to believe what had just happened, or what could have happened.

"Look, Jeydon. I know you're a senior, but I'm only 16 and I... I... I just can't." he opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. "I'm sorry."

Then, I rushed out of the room, grabbing my shirt as I ran out the door and down the hallway. At the foot of the stairs, I heard Max beckoning me over, and by the time I reached the front door, Jeydon was already calling my name. I didn't look back. I just couldn't talk to him or even look at him right now. Once outside, I started walking. Not in any particular direction, but in 30 minutes, I realized that my feet had taken me home. I climbed the tree next to my window, not wanting to disturb my parents so late at night. Or early in the morning. By then, I had no sense of time. The tree climbing was extra difficult due to the fact that I was, in fact, completely drunk, but muscle memory from when I was sober (or, at least, semi-sober) kicked in. Once in my bedroom, I collapsed on my bed, and fell asleep immediatly. My cheeks were still wet from the trails of tears caused by the night.


End file.
